Camping only 10 miles from the Yukon/Alaska border, I awoke with the excitement of knowing that today was the day I would finally cross into Alaska. After my usual battle with the mosquito swarms during breakfast and packing, I rode away from my campsite at Beaver Creek, Yukon and headed for the U.S. - Canada International border.
There is a lovely roadside station at the international border between the two long-time friendly nations commemorating the good relations between our two countries and noting that the spot is part of the longest unpatroled international border in the world. I used my tiny folding tripod to good effect to take photos of myself and my wounded 1991 BMW K 75 S motorcycle posed together with the welcome to Alaska sign. I had the entire area to myself for at least 15 minutes of contemplation and photos, after a 4,000 mile, two-wheeled journey, finally achieving my goal to safely reach Alaska. More happy, emotional tears. God, what a sis!
Passing through U.S. Customs without any drama, I was pleased to find immediate improvement in the road conditions back in the U.S. of A. The slamming on bike and body that the Yukon dished out was largely over now, but the temperature dropped down into the 50s and a petulant, spitty, on again/off again light rain fell from darkened brooding skies. I reached into my WalMart 40-litre dry bag #1 (of 3) for the antidote to the cold/wet combo- two-piece Frogg Togg rain suit, Eclipse electrically heated jacket, and Gerbing electrically heated gloves. The rain suit locked in the heat generated by the jacket and I was toasty warm, and happy once more as I settled in for the uneventful, 300 mile ride to reach Fairbanks and my reserved room in the dormatory at the University of Alaska at Fairbanks campus.
Reaching suburban Fairbanks, I saw signs for the town of North Pole, Alaska, and the advertised visitor center aroused my curiousity. The two lovely ladies manning the information desk absolutely gushed with Christmas spirit even though the excitement of the place was somehow less powerful to this tired, hungry, and wet Jewish boy. The gals were very helpful in checking the internet for me to help me rule out my planned dining location for tonight as low-quality and overpriced in multiple on-line reviews. I took a chance on a restaurant directly across the parking lot from the visitor center and enjoyed a fine lasagna meal while watching the MLB Allstar Game in Minneapolis. The $37 price tag for my one-night-stand in Fairbanks was good for the budget.
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